


all the stars in the sky

by trashy_cas



Series: in another life [2]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Manga Spoilers, birthday fic, mentions of skip and the rest of the gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15668502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashy_cas/pseuds/trashy_cas
Summary: Ash is dreaming again.Ash turns 20. It's the happiest day of his life, if he's being honest.





	all the stars in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD. They are vague, but definitely there, so please proceed with caution!
> 
> This is part of an ongoing AU series! This is more of the epilogue to that series, but it can be read as a standalone fic.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Ash wakes up with a start.

The librarian is already walking away from him, moving on to help the next patron. He looks drowsily at the sunlight that filters through the dust motes, sees how it slants through the windowpanes in an odd, almost otherworldly way. He reaches out, touches it with his fingertips, feels how its warmth fills him up, the sensation heavy and pleasant.

 _There is something there,_ he thinks, something in that sunlight. Something that sounds like a voice underwater, except the voice is in a dream of dreams, distant and fleeting and flying.

For one strange moment, he is hollow-boned, a bird in flight, full of light and the silence of the library.

“Ash?”

He blinks and lowers his hand. “Eiji,” he says, and immediately, the world rights itself. “Hey, I’m sorry. I must’ve dozed off for a second.”

Eiji just smiles, his face haloed in sunlight. “Come on, sleepyhead,” he says with a laugh. “It’s _somebody’s_ birthday, and it’s almost time head back so we can get ready for his party.”

Ash grins and gathers up his papers as Eiji helps him stack the books he needs to return. As he hefts a pile in his arms, he lets out a breath of surprise. “Good Lord, are _all_ of these for your thesis?”

“Careful now,” Ash says, zipping up his backpack. “Some of those are older than even you, old man.”

“I am _literally_ only two years older than you.”

“And which one of us can legally drink?”

“Never stopped you before.”

Ash snorts and they make their way to the front desk, nodding his thanks to the assistant. Their footsteps echo across the floor, the high ceiling above them heaven-like.

Eiji holds the door open for the both of them with an exaggerated flourish.

“What a gentleman,” Ash says. “I’ll bet his boyfriend is the luckiest man in the world.”

Eiji laughs at this, blush high and lovely on his cheeks as they step out into the hot August day, the sounds of the city rushing to their ears like waves on the shore. “Sorry, but I think that title goes to me. How does it feel being in second place?”

Ash links his arms with Eiji’s, leans down slightly to press a kiss to his temple. “Feels pretty fucking great, to be honest,” he says. His laugh is brimming with warmth, hot-air balloon helium rising off New York’s simmering pavement.

They walk to the nearest subway station and take the train to their apartment, chattering about Skip’s graduation, how Eiji’s niece is coming to visit soon, how there’s this new restaurant on 5th street that you’ll love, Ash, just _trust me_ this time.

They climb the few flights of stairs to their floor (no elevator, sadly), and Eiji unlocks the door to let them in.

It’s small and simple, but clean and tidy under Eiji’s careful maintenance. (He always complains that Ash leaves his clothes everywhere).

Ash loves it here, from the desk with the large window that looks out onto one of Manhattan’s quieter streets, to the well-worn chair with his black leather jacket draped over the side, to the small kitchen that’s brimming with memories of bumping hips on the way to the cereal and solving the morning’s crossword together on the small island.

He slips off his shoes by the door, groans unnecessarily loudly as he tosses his backpack on the couch with an impressive _thump._ “Good to be home.”

Eiji pads his way over to the kitchen. “I’m having a snack,” he announces. “What time is it? You need to be decent by six-thirty.” He opens the fridge and mutters something about needing more milk.

Ash follows him into the kitchen, yawning. “My watch says four. Hey can you pass me the orange juice? Thanks.”

“You’d better not drink it directly out of the carton again—oh, Jesus.”

Ash wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugs. “It was almost empty, anyway. Besides, I’m not the one who needs to drink more milk, shortstop.”

Eiji shuts the fridge and glares. “Ash Lynx, smartest man in all of the Tri-state area, drinks straight out of the carton like some kind of heathen,” he mutters as he washes his hands. “Go wash up and take a nap, you idiot. I can tell you’re tired. Guests are going to be here at seven.”

Ash chucks the carton behind him without looking, knowing that it will land perfectly in the recycle bin. _Thunk._ (“Show-0ff,” Eiji says).

“Please don’t tell me you invited Yau-Si,” he calls as he walks back into the living room. “He was terrible to you in high school, remember?” (Their living room isn’t much bigger than their kitchen, so their conversations can span almost the entirety of their apartment).

From their matchbox bathroom, Ash can hear Eiji sigh. “Yes, but we cleared that up a long time ago. You’ve known him forever, I couldn’t _not_ invite him.”

“More like you felt sorry for him is what happened,” Ash calls back, but fondly. Eiji has always been too kind, too quick to compromise his own wellbeing if it’s for Ash’s sake.

Unsurprisingly, it drives Ash insane.

He splashes water on his face and heads out into the hallway, taking an immediate right into their bedroom. He collapses on the bed, starfish-shaped, and lets out a mighty sigh. This must be Eiji’s side, because it smells like him, his soap and distinctly Eiji smell. Ash breathes deeply and turns on his side, curled up and more comfortable than he’s ever been in his life.

“Eiji?” he calls. His voice comes out a lot softer than he meant it to, but Eiji hears him anyway.

“Yeah?” he hears Eiji say distantly, followed by approaching footsteps. His vision is dimming rapidly, flashing in and out like an old projector running out of film. _Click, click, click._

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he mumbles into Eiji’s pillow, just as he sees a familiar mop of black hair near the doorframe.

He closes his eyes.

~

Eiji pokes his head in. “Sorry, what was that?”

But Ash is already asleep. So, Eiji does one of his favorite things, and just watches him for a moment.

Ash’s chest rises and falls with even breaths. Curled up like this, with his face relaxed and unguarded, he looks so much younger.

Eiji’s smile is every summertime memory by the river, in the music room of their high school, the bright fireworks on the fourth of July, the night they danced together in the library.

And beneath it all, softness, only softness.

As quietly as he can, he pulls a blanket over him, presses his lips to his forehead.

Ash doesn’t stir. (He always did sleep like a log).

“Goodnight, Ash,” Eiji says quietly.

 He closes the door on the way out.

“Now, for some decorations. Oh, and I need to call and see if Max picked up the cake…”

~

Ash is dreaming again.

He’s back in the New York Public Library, sitting at one of the desks. He is reading. Strangely, the windows are blacked out, but he pays it no mind. Weirder things have happened in New York.  

He needs to finish reading this, so he puts on his glasses. But then he sees that every book is blank, and then the world is yellow, bright yellow.

Yellow like sunlight through arched windows, yellow like the dawn, yellow like leopard eyes, yellow like bananas. His hands begin to shake.

He takes off his glasses, and suddenly he cannot see at all. Everything is darkness and night, but not the night he knows. This night is alien and full of strange shapes and there is a wind blowing through the tall grass, and then a car backfires—

He hears gunfire behind him, shouts above him—no, below—now there is a fire, and he is running, running.

He runs. He runs and he runs and he runs until his legs turn to sand and then he crawls on his arms and then suddenly he’s in a warehouse and there’s a gun in his hand.

 _Choose_ someone says. _You or him_. _You or him._

And Ash doesn’t know where the fuck he is, he doesn’t even know _who_ he is, but he knows this. He will always know this, because it is branded into the fabric of his very soul, all the threads that bind him and connect his head to his heart and his hands to his feet. He knows this because it makes him a complete person, makes him breathe through the fire and keep running until he can’t anymore. He will always know.

 _Him_ he says, _always him_ , and then he shoots, but now the gun is gone.

Because there was never a gun, only flashes of colorful light through a kaleidoscope and the time he scraped his knee when he was young and small and his father didn’t turn away, instead put a band-aid that was the color of a smile and then he pat his head and ruffled his hair. It was nice.

Then he is standing on the edge of a very high cliff, and he is older. He tosses a bouquet of flowers into the sea, watches them flutter down, down, down, like hands that can’t staunch the bleeding, like the sound of an ambulance screaming. The sky is an aching red, and before he falls to join the flowers in the waters below, a quiet voice says _do you hate it here?_

Time stops.

Ash turns.

He doesn’t, in the strictest sense, need to see who is speaking, because he knows that voice better than his own name, but he looks anyway, because he never did know when to stay away, and because it brings him joy. To see, to touch, to smile.

To love.

“No, Eiji,” he says, and this Eiji is different from his Eiji, the Eiji who is 22 years old and with whom he shares their small apartment with big windows and the laughter living in the slats of the floors, the cracks in the wall they painted over together.

He is crying, this Eiji with the long hair and the lines around his eyes that should not be there but do absolutely nothing— _nothing at all_ , Ash thinks—to dim the starlight behind them.

“No, Eiji,” he says again, like a broken wind-up doll, and he is crying too, has been for a long time now, but this time is different.

 _This time_ , he swears, _is different_. “I have never been happier.”

And not-Eiji takes off his glasses— _when did he start wearing glasses? He’d better be taking care of himself, that self-destructive idiot_ —and his smile is a miracle in itself—enough to crack mountains on their faults and fill the oceans over and over again _. Beautiful._

“Good,” says not-Eiji as the sky begins to lighten. “I’m so, so glad, Ash.”

And Ash reaches out, fingertips so close, and cradles not-Eiji’s cheek. Words come, unbidden, and Ash’s voice breaks on them just as the dawn does the same over the horizon.

The sea lights up, the sunrise turns all to gold. Eiji closes his eyes. _Breathe._

_My soul is always with you, too._

Ash opens his eyes.

~

He wakes up for the second time that day with his heart pounding and the world not looking quite right.

“Ash?”

It’s deja-vu, the afternoon in the library all over again. Eiji is standing over him, concern clearly written over his features. “Are you ok?”

Ash feels something wet drip down his cheeks. He thumbs at the tears in a kind of stupor. “Nothing,” he says, but his voice is strange. “Just a dream.”

Eiji looks like he doesn’t believe it for single second. “Do you want to talk about it?” he says quietly.

Ash looks up from his fists, which are clenched white-knuckled in his lap. He opens his mouth. “Can I—?” Clears his throat. Closes his mouth, opens it again. “Can we—?”

Eiji just nods. He sits on the bed, far enough so that Ash can move away if he wants, but Ash doesn’t. Instead, he readjusts his position, places his head on Eiji’s lap as Eiji beings to gently comb through the strands of his hair. 

Ash breathes in and out, in and out, until his cheeks dry and he feels his heartbeat begin to even out.

“I’m always here for you. No matter what,” Eiji begins, and Ash closes his eyes. “We can talk about it, if you want.”

Ash is silent for a moment, listening to Eiji breathing in time with his own pulse and the quiet whir of the ceiling fan. Eiji’s continues to stroke his forehead, fingertips reassuring and soft in his hair.

“I don’t remember most of it,” Ash finally says, eyes still closed. “But—you were there, I think. You were…”

There is something in his throat. “You were crying.”

Eiji thumbs the side of his jaw, travels to his temple, back down to his ear. “Mm.”

Ash takes a breath, taking a moment. “You weren’t…you weren’t _here._ Not, like, in a physical sense, but…I don’t know.”

The hands near his ear still for a moment, and Ash opens his eyes. The sun has gone down since he was last awake, and everything seems a little washed with those few hours before evening, when everything is still.

“Ash.”

Ash looks up, turns his head ever-so-slightly. As always, he feels that tug whenever Eiji calls his name, and as always, the sight that greets him makes all breath leave his lungs.

“I swear to you,” Eiji says, voice low and present and _real._ “I will never leave your side. Do you know why?”

Ash swallows.

Eiji’s eyes are the color of night. It is a fact, like _the sky is blue_ or _Ash Lynx is alive_. “It is because I love you. And I will never, ever stop. For you, I would do anything.”

Ash blinks. There is water on both of their faces now. “Ash Lynx, I love you in this life and the next, and in every universe there is.”

Ash feels something inside him unfurl, something he didn’t even know was hidden away. “I love you, too,” he says, and he knows that they are the truest words he has ever spoken. “I love you, too.”

Eiji smiles. He leans over. Ash meets him halfway, pliant, like a plant that can’t help growing towards the sun.

Eiji his presses his lips to Ash’s own.

They stay like that for awhile, until Ash says, “Alright, my neck is killing me and your breath smells like natto.”

“Guilty as charged,” Eiji chuckles as he draws away, but his eyes are still serious. “Are you still ok for the party?”

Ash sits up and swings his legs over the bed, hands going through his hair. “With you here? Hell yeah.” He glances at the mirror on their closet door and sees he is in dire need of a shower. “Just—ah, could you give me a minute to find something that doesn’t smell like the subway?”

Eiji stands up, nodding. “And whose subway-smelling ass just slept on our bed again?” His voice is teasing, but he understands. He always does. “I’m almost done with the shrimp and avocado salad, so I’ll let you know when that’s done.”

He walks out, and Ash is alone with his thoughts.

Ash runs his hands over his face. The memories of the dream are quickly disappearing, like water in a sieve. He remembers…a cliff, a gun, a smile. And Eiji, of course, but this is hardly the first time he has dreamed of Eiji.

He looks out the window at the city, the first lights beginning to twinkle on in the distance. He’s always thought that New York looks its best dressed in sunsets and sunrises. It may be dirty and loud and by all logic impossible, but it’s home, and he loves it all the same.

He hears a clatter in the kitchen, followed by a curse. Without meaning to, he smiles. _He probably tried to reach for the bowls again. Shortie._

Alright, what to wear. He picks out a reasonable shirt he’s been told brings out his eyes and a comfortable pair of jeans and leaves it at that.

But before he showers, he should probably get to helping Eiji before the poor boy falls off the stepstool. Chuckling, he yells, “Hey, I’ll be right there! Don’t hurt yourself, I heard that reaching your arms too high above your head is bad for your posture.”

“Oh, fuck off,” is the reply he receives from far-off. He shakes his head. No respect in this household at all. “I’m only telling you this because I love you,” he calls out as he tidies up a bit.

“I love you too, fool, but this party isn’t going to throw itself. Get in here, will you?”

Chuckling to himself, he finishes folding the blanket and places it on the bed.

On the way out, however, he pauses.

_I know we’ll see each other again someday._

Blink.

He glances out the window one last time, sees his reflection, the city, his reflection.

Suddenly, there is a much louder _clang_ from the kitchen, followed by a long string of expletives even Shorter would balk at. Ash starts.

“Coming!” he says in reply, blinking away the feeling.

He leaves the dream, whatever it may have been, to the disappearing sun, and joins Eiji with a bright laugh.

~

All in all, the party is a success. There are minors present, so alcohol doesn’t make _too_ much of an appearance. Nevertheless, Ash and Eiji’s friends know how to have a good time. Max’s face becomes redder and redder throughout the evening, eventually standing up loudly and sweeping Jessica and Michael right off their feet after they finish singing happy birthday, with much shouting and squealing.

Shorter is only a little tipsy, purple hair becoming more and more wild as he frantically explains to Eiji, Cain, and Alex the hassle of maintaining his Look on a daily basis.

Eiji, ever the attentive listener, is both appalled and impressed, while Cain just nods every now and then in agreement. Alex just shakes his head. (“It requires _constant maintenance,_ you guys. These roots aren’t naturally this good-looking. It’s an _ordeal._ ”)

Sing spends half of the time playing cards with Michael, Skip, Bones, and Kong. He spends the other half making sure Yau-Si doesn’t dive headfirst off the fire escape, because sometime at the beginning of the party the guy had downed several glasses of wine, then proceeded to challenge Ash to a battle of wits.

Ash eloquently told him to go soak his head, which he took literally, as a personal challenge. Thankfully, his butler/guardian/escort helps watch after him, so by the end of it the bathroom has been cleaned up and he’s sleeping quite peacefully on the couch, much to everyone’s relief.

(Eiji still isn’t quite sure how Ash, Yau-Si, and Blanca are all connected, but the man is nice enough and cares about Ash, which is all the incentive he needs to invite him to their home).

Ibe spends most of the time talking with Ash, Max, Charlie, and Nadia about some hot new story he saw in the tabloids that morning: something about the government being in cahoots with a big-shot mafia boss to distribute some drug that—get this, _can control people’s minds_.

They all get a good laugh out of it, and Max warns them about the dangers of inaccurate reporting.

When it comes time for singing and cake, Eiji turns off the lights while Max lights the candles. The light glows golden and bright, and Ash will never admit it, but he’s blushing.

“What’s your wish, what’s your wish?” asks Michael excitedly, before Ash blows out the candles.

Everyone looks at him expectantly. For a moment, Ash seems to consider.

Then, he grins, teeth flashing white in the darkness of their cramped living room. “It’s a secret,” he says, and then lets go of his breath.

They all cheer when the lights come back on, and everyone gets a slice.

Overall, it’s one of the happiest evenings of Ash’s life.

By the time it winds down, it’s nearly 1 AM. One by one, their guests leave, until finally it is just Ash and Eiji waving away Max, safely in a cab (the rest of the family went home early).

They head back upstairs, hands intertwined.

“God, that was fun,” Ash sighs once they’re in their room, getting ready for bed. “Thank you for organizing, Eiji.”

Eiji slides underneath the covers, smiling contentedly. “You’re very welcome, Ash. Thank you for being born. Now, since it’s your birthday, I do have a little gift for you.”

“Is it a kiss? Those are my favorite, you know.”

“Haha. Can you grab the envelope on the desk there?”

Ash obliges, because he’s a man hopelessly in love. There are still the gifts from his friends sitting in the living room, but those can wait.

He has more important matters to attend to right now.

“Alright, now open it.”

He does. His jaw drops.

“Is this…?”

Eiji looks at him, a smile on his lips. “It is. Only, of course, if you want to, although I’ve already bought the ticket, so uh—”

“Of course I want to!” Ash can’t believe this. “I want to see your _home_ , I want to know where you came from, I want to meet your parents—”

Oops.

There’s a silence. Ash feels himself steadily reddening, panic not far behind. He knows he’s stammering, now, something about _sorry if that was too sudden_ and _I should’ve talked with you first,_ and—

Eiji places a finger to Ash’s lips, effectively shutting Ash up. “That’s why I bought the ticket,” he says, laughing fondly. His voice unbearably soft. “ _Of course_ they want to meet you. I’ve told them so much about you.”

Ash blinks away the heat behind his eyes.

Eiji has never looked more beautiful, in the soft light of their room. “Ash, I couldn’t be happier right now. I want to share our life with them. If that’s ok with you, of course.”

Ash traces the text, the thin paper. _Izumo._

_Ee-zoo-mo._

“Ok,” he whispers. He can’t stop smiling. “Ok.”

Eiji lifts the other side of the covers, patting the mattress sleepily. “Good. Now get in here and cuddle with me, I’m tired.”

Ash places the envelope gently on the nightstand, turns off the lamp, and does just that. He places his chin on Eiji’s shoulder, slides his arm around Eiji’s waist. Breathes in Eiji’s shampoo.

Eiji, Eiji, _Eiji._

“My sister is going to be so jealous of me when she finally sees you,” Eiji says, laughing to himself.

“Hate to disappoint, but I’m taken.”

“Oh man, really? What a shame.”

Ash smiles.

Eiji turns around, so that they’re facing one another, but still in Ash’s arms. He says something in Japanese, syllables quick and breathy and beautiful.

“What does that mean?” Ash whispers.

Even though it’s dark, he can see Eiji’s own smile. “It means _happy birthday._ ” He says something else.

“What does that mean?”

Eiji reaches for his hand. Places it against his heart.

“ _Goodnight, darling_.”

He says one more phrase, and this time, Ash knows what it means.

He asks, anyway. Because he can.

“ _I love you._ ”

“Well, I love you more.”

“Hmm, doubtful.”

A silence. It goes on for awhile, so long that Ash thinks Eiji has fallen asleep.

“Ash?”

“Mm.”

“What did you wish for?”

He kisses the soft spot on top of Eiji’s head. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughs, sleep-soft and drowsy.

“Alright.” He’s never been able to hide anything from the boy who can fly, after all. “I wished for this, forever.”

Another silence. Ash knows they’re both smiling, eyes closed.

“Forever’s a long time.”

“I know.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They sleep.

 

 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/chubsthehamster) and [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/trashycaswrites). always open to shout about these two because I am FULL of emotions. 
> 
> Also: all the hugs to my friend [ Célia](https://twitter.com/Serya_chan) on twitter for cheering me on with this! Please go show her art some love, she's the lovely person who got me into the bf fandom! <3


End file.
